Three
by SabineLaGrande
Summary: Obi Wan's world falls apart. Obidala, RotS spoilers.


A/N: Consider this your warning: This fic has huge spoilers for Revenge of the Sith. It also doesn't make any sense if you've not seen the movie. So, if you haven't seen it, don't read. There. Now it's on your head.

* * *

When he stepped onto her balcony, they were all decorum and friendship, their behavior perfectly befitting a Jedi and a senator. There was no telling who could be watching or why. When the bedroom door shut and the shades were pulled, they were all hands and kisses.

Obi-Wan didn't understand it. He'd tried talking to her about Anakin, about the feelings Obi-Wan knew Padme had for him. It hadn't worked; she just distracted him, danced around the issue. Eventually, he stopped asking. It wasn't like he could talk to Anakin about it. Anakin was slipping, and Obi-Wan had to be strong, had to be the paragon the Jedi, even if it was a lie.

Obi-Wan's hand came to rest on her swollen stomach. He could feel the new life there, could feel the Force strong within it. There was no mistaking it. His heart stopped. There were so many questions to ask, but Padme's lips stopped them from coming. There would be time to sort it all out.

* * *

Obi-Wan wondered just who was watching as he left his speeder at the balcony, not that any senator's petty intrigue mattered now. When Padme came to meet him, he kissed her right there in the open, not knowing if it would be the last time. She grabbed him by the hand and pulled him toward her room, but he stopped her.

"Not now," he murmured. He almost unconsciously took a step backwards. He must be Master Kenobi now, not Obi-Wan, not just a man.

He asked her about Anakin, and she tried to hide. It wasn't like her. She was usually so open. When Obi-Wan mentioned the Sith, she was so full of fear. How could he go on? But he had to. He told her everything Anakin had done, all the myriad sin. And in that instant, her eyes were fourteen again, full of innocent confusion. And of course he had to kill him. There was no real choice, but seeing the sadness etched on her face almost made him want to abandon his mission.

Suddenly, it hit him with caustic clarity, and the words leapt out of his mouth. "Anakin's the father, isn't he?" He'd been such a fool. "I'm so sorry," he said icily. He heard a weak protest as he left, but he just put up his hood against it and didn't look back.

Getting onto her ship was easy. The hardest part was hiding, listening to her sob, the impotent protocol droid trying to comfort her, knowing that he couldn't go to her. Despite everything, despite a treachery that didn't even make sense, he only wanted to hold her.

* * *

It was over. The duel ran together, until that final moment. What the hell was he thinking, charging out of the ship like an overblown hero? All it had done was get Padme hurt. He watched Anakin's face as his mind clicked over, wondering if he was feeling the same pain Obi-Wan felt at Padme's betrayal. He had enjoyed that moment in a way that now made him sick. What had he become? This was all his fault. He was the one who had fallen first, who had let Anakin fall.

He knew in his heart that Anakin, the boy he'd raised, who was closer than a brother, was dead. He was so used to feeling Anakin's presence, strong and constant, and it was gone. In its place was a heavy, burning feeling that lay on his heart that he was sure he was never going to get out from under.

And she was gone. Her last words stung him somehow. How could she be hopeful and still leave him? Because his love wasn't enough. He cursed himself for thinking that, but the thought remained. He was angry: at himself, at Anakin, at Padme, at anyone who crossed his mind. But that anger quickly melted into a deep sadness that engulfed the rest of his thoughts.

He looked down at the baby, at the boy that should have been his. He kissed him softly on the head. Obi-Wan had to do anything he could not to fail again, so that Luke would not fail. He gave the boy over to Beru. Luke would be safe here. He would at least have a chance for redemption.

Without a word, he turned and went out into the desert to find his peace.


End file.
